


Nothing's sad until it's over

by laurus_nobilis



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Gen, Spoilers for Episode: s09e12 Hell Bent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-12
Updated: 2016-02-12
Packaged: 2018-05-19 20:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5979571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laurus_nobilis/pseuds/laurus_nobilis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a hole shaped like a song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing's sad until it's over

**Author's Note:**

> Written for round 5 of Gen Prompt Bingo with the prompt "Amnesia".

It was a hole shaped like a song.

In his mind, that made sense, even if maybe it didn't sound like it _should_ make sense when he tried to put it into words. But just because words sometimes weren't good enough for his thoughts didn't mean that the thoughts themselves were wrong. This particular thought, in fact, was very clear. Which was frustrating, in a way, because nothing else _around it_ was.

Oh, he knew what had happened. Technically. He knew the facts, and he also knew why there were _some_ facts that he didn't know. And of course, he was very much aware that those particular facts were never coming back. That wasn't the problem.

The problem, really, was the blur. He hated blurs. His mind was supposed to be sharp and clear and, sure, maybe sometimes a little tangled, but he could always find the end of the thread and unravel whichever mess it had gotten into. Blurs, though, blurs were different. Most of all, it was unlike him. He needed to get rid of it.

So, a song.

A sad song, he thought. Bittersweet at the very least - no, that was not the word. Melancholy. Something that used to be there and used to be happy and now it's not. But that was kind of generic, wasn't it? That was most of his life. He needed to make it more specific. And he couldn't do it with his brain alone, even if it was a very impressive brain indeed.

It was a good thing that he had a guitar. He didn't know where he was, or how he'd got here, or where he was going. But he had a guitar and he started playing. Worst case scenario, it would help him pay for his meal.

Best case scenario, he would find a song shaped like a hole.

When the woman in the diner asked, he said _I think it's called Clara_.


End file.
